


Inevitable

by Rabentochter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: ALMOST Character Death, Choking, Endgame fix it, Fix-It, Flirting, Frostiron Bingo Round 1, Hopeful Ending, Horror, Hurt Loki (Marvel), I don't, I'm just riding the spite train and fixing shit, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki is in denial about his pining, M/M, Pining, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, and he's definitely the pining one, do I look like I know how to tag this, fix it infinity war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22197421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabentochter/pseuds/Rabentochter
Summary: Loki knows he's the only one left breathing on the Arc. So, why can he hearsteps?
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Comments: 21
Kudos: 304





	Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> It was one of those days when I wrote this, just to explain the Present Tense xD
> 
> Fill for the Frostiron Bingo: **G1 - Horror (genre)**

His fingers are tingling, his soles numb, and his throat too tight to breathe properly. Loki doesn’t know where he is, he’s just sitting somewhere, the fires are still burning around him. He thinks he can smell them, the heat is licking at his face and he –

He doesn’t know where Thor is. His fingers are shaking, the metal at his back is warming up with the second. It’s slowly bending, he can hear it cracking and it won’t take long until –

Until the ship gets torn apart.

He should be dead, should have stopped breathing a while ago –

But here he is, cuddled together like a mewling worm and his wits fled his lips. Nothing but short, ragged breaths come from his mouth and he sees the darkness of space in his mind. He knows it’s there, just a wall is separating them. He knows of the horrors that lurk in its depths and he can’t stop shaking, his throat hurting, and his spine doesn’t feel _right_ either. The lingering touch of cold gold around his neck, his eyes held in ban of dark purple, dripping with _nothing;_ apathy is all he saw then. And it is what makes _him_ so terrifying, and Loki can’t get his brush with death out of his head.

Again.

How ironic that he chose to wear purple on Sakaar himself, it’s almost prophetic and he suddenly misses the joyful atmosphere from there: the banter, the chaos and the Grandmaster is his own _bad_ self but he’s –

He never tried to choke Loki or end his life – that is most likely a lie but it sounds good and comforting in this moment. The Grandmaster was content when Loki chose to use his silvertongue to his advantage, made the _people_ happy, and caused mischief. Because that meant new contenders for the arena for some reasons and maybe Loki shouldn’t have enabled this but –

He can’t remember how he slipped from Thanos’ hand, but he sees the tilt of his head still, silently wondering _how much longer until you die?_ Endless patience because Thanos has what Loki never had –

_Time._

The corpses of the Asgardians and Sakaarians are all scattered around him; he’s the only one with a beating heart left in the middle of a sea of dead. Thor is –

Thor is not here.

Loki feels like screaming, ripping out his hair by its roots but all he can do is to either pinch his eyes shut, try to keep the horror out he’s been in for a few years and has come to its ultimate peak, or he opens them and admits, accepts, what is going to happen. What already _has_ happened.

Thor has been taken by Thanos, most likely. Or he got tossed out of the ship and all he can hope is that Valkyrie has found him, can _save_ him and end Thanos’ reign before it’s too late. It feels as if salt is poured down his throat, tearing him open from the inside out and he has to breathe –

It reminds him of the fish he was so fond of eating as child. Brackish, but still edible and Odin’s disgusted look whenever he saw Loki gobble it down; white, tender meat on his lips and contentment in his belly. He’s coughing up precious air, wheezing into the silent flicker of the end creeping closer.

The ship will be torn apart and he’ll be flung out into space.

It is inevitable.

Floating forever through the most dangerous starry nights and he wonders if that artist he liked to watch drawing saw the same when Loki let him see with his seiðr. He’s always liked sharing the vision through his seiðr when people expressed interest in it, and painters always appreciated it the most, made Loki feel like him learning seiðr has not been for naught.

He can hear steps.

They’re heavy, loud.

He thinks of his daggers he’s stowed away in his pockets and it’s only with a lot of effort that he can procure one up, holding it tight. He doesn’t know whether it is to make himself appear at least _intimidating_ or if he only has it in case it’s Thanos and –

Loki doesn’t want his throat to be crushed again.

He wheezes, pain shoots through him and he stares ahead, trying to see what is heading his way. Chitauri? Here to see if they can find something to play with before the ship crumbles? Outriders, who want dinner?

Maybe Loki tastes like fish.

There are voices.

_Mercenaries?_

He doesn’t know when he stopped having hope for something nice, can only ever assume it’s the worst case. Maybe it is because life taught him that. There might be no good and no evil, but there certainly is no kindness to be found in people either. He remembers Frigga’s gentle smiles, her soft hands as she played with his hair.

“Is that him?”

The voice sounds familiar. The dagger in his hand trembles and he lifts his head, looking up into the face of whomever was going to kill him.

“Hello, Reindeer Games.”

_Stark?_ He forms the words with his chapped lips, they’re sticking together.

“You looked like shit the last time we met already but this is truly a new peak.” Stark’s voice sounds soft and he holds Loki’s wrist. It feels cold, _his suit,_ Loki’s mind tells him as he stares, not fully comprehending yet what he sees. “We don’t have a lot of time, but I’ll get you out of here. Yes?”

_Yes._ Loki nods, swallows bile down, his fingers trembling and he lets Stark hoist him up. His neck doesn’t like to be moved and he prefers not having any strain put on it.

“That looks so nasty,” Stark comments and his arms reach under Loki’s legs, lifting them.

_He doesn’t like this_.

But he can’t stop himself from just letting Stark do either, his neck resting in the perfect angle and Stark throws him a searching look.

“Look, this won’t be funny where we’ll end up. But I promised Thor I’d try to get his little brother and since Rogers gets the Tesseract from a few years ago-“

_Stark is rambling nonsense._

The thought is comforting. Stark loves rambling, talks so much that people forget what they came for and Loki admires this tactician thinking, extremely so. Last time he’d shown appreciation by sticking his tongue in Stark’s throat who didn’t really seem to mind, returning the sentiment with enthusiasm Loki hadn’t expected.

And now here he is. In Stark’s arms, a burning throat and he gets told to close his eyes as their surroundings start to shift –

“Welcome to the future,” Stark whispers and there’s a tenderness in his voice that makes Loki open his eyes. “We’ll go and let someone take a nice look at your throat and spine, how does that sound? And then, after that we can finally have the drink I promised you. How’s that sound?”

Loki stares at him.

There is no fire anymore. The only metal he feels is the suit Stark wears and –

“You survived that shit ass grape,” Stark says simply and his voice is like balsam to the sourness Loki feels. “No need to worry anymore. Well, only about your neck but I know a lady who has some fancy technology that can even create a body for a _robot_ so you'll be in good hands. I can even hold yours, if you want. 'M not gonna tell Thor if you're worried about your manly virtue.” 

Stark thinks for a moment. "Although I really do miss hearing you scream but then I guess, the circumstances were different." 

Loki tries a small nod, but he stops when he gets reminded that his neck doesn’t like that.

But Stark smiles all the brighter at him, so maybe he got the message Loki tries to send. He hopes so. 


End file.
